Yeh Hai Mumbai Meri Jaan!

Mumbai. City of dreams. A city of pretences. A city of contradictions. A city divided, yet a city united. A city so complex.

A glittering city awaits me as I reach in the night.

My car stops at the red light in front of Victoria terminus. A landmark, a gothic Italian structure built by the Britishers. A young man on a motorcycle stops next to me. A burka clad woman sits behind him. Her hand clutching his shoulder. In front of me is a taxi with 'Hey Ram' written on it. A Parsi man crosses the street. I want to capture this moment forever. Because it gives me hope. I see a melting pot of multi-religions, multi-ethinicity and multi-cultures.

As I reach my hotel in South Mumbai, I see lots of cars parked. Some (well dressed) people have decided to stop their car on the road and there is a jam. It seems there is a Page 3 party going on somewhere closeby as some of these people (in shiny clothes) stoll upto their cars. My driver honks the horn. They turn back and glare him. The expression on their face saying 'You don't know me or what?'. I see. This is also a city of pretences.

Tired, I go to sleep. In the morning my friend comes to meet me. She apolozies for not coming and meeting me the previous night. She says her home in the suburbs is too far from South Mumbai. She works in the the area of investments and finance. We walk towards the Marine Drive. She tells me about the Business district at Nariman Point. The dream of anyone who has made it in the world of Finance has an office here. She hopes, hers will be here one day too. I know, this is afterall a city of dreams.

We look for a place to have breakfast. Nothing is open so early in the morning. We go back to my hotel room and eat biscuits. We sit and talk. She tells me South Mumbai is like South Delhi. Posh. Anyone who is 'Anyone' lives here. She tells me people smirk if she tells them she doesn't live in the town. No autorickshaws ply here. I see provocation for the dreams to come true.

I go for my business meeting. I meet some people. I see some not so straight men at high posts in big organizations. In Delhi, they will feel the discrimination straight on (no pun intended) . I see this city absorbing everything and weaving it in its fabric.

Later as I go to the airport, my driver apolgetically tells me that he'll have to take another route. I ask him why. He tells me its because of Ambedkar Punyathi the next day. I nod in acknowledgement. As we go, I see people living on the pavements. Children happily scamper away as women sit and chit chat. Some men take a bath. But they don't even once look at the cars which pass them. It seems they live in another world. Moments later, my driver breaks my reverie and tells me in a disdainful tone that these are the 'famed' slums of Mumbai. In a tone which is full of contempt for the people living in those shacks, he tells me its 'jaisey log, waisa area'. Moments later, we hit a road which is wide, slum-less, neat and looks like a better area of the city. I see a city divided.

I ask him whether the city is divided on religious lines. Do people live in seperate areas or are they integrated. He tells me they live in segregated areas. In a city which is a hub of Hindu fundamentalists and a city which has seen gruesome riots, I see scars not yet healed. There are some whose lives have not been affected. They air kiss each other at nights. I see a city so complex.

It compels me to come there again. I hope I do. For there is much to scratch beneath the surface. Different layers waiting to be unfolded. Different stories waiting to be told. Much to be seen and understood. Much like Delhi.

The two cities have evloved. From the time of Mughul rule to the time of British rule and the currently, some things have changed and some have stood in time. I am facinated by this complexity and simplicity rolled in together. I feel a connection.

Mumbai, I will see you again.